


Family Outing

by great_turkey_calamity



Series: Sharkandegg Cinematic Universe (kids) [2]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex and Henry take the kids to the v&a, Fluff, Gen, It’s a cute little time, M/M, important parental discussions, married with kids, they have a discussion about one of their kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/great_turkey_calamity/pseuds/great_turkey_calamity
Summary: Several years into the future, Henry and Alex take their children on an outing to the Victoria and Albert Museum.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Sharkandegg Cinematic Universe (kids) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944718
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87





	Family Outing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sharkandegg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkandegg/gifts).



> Part two of what I am dubbing the @sharkandegg cinematic universe lol, since these are one shots about their kid OCs.
> 
> Things to note:
> 
> Their children’s ages are as follows:  
> Sophie: 8  
> Jamie: 6  
> Austin: 3
> 
> Obviously, Jamie has yet to come out as non-binary, and are referred to by their dead name (Dahlia). If you think this might make you uncomfortable, this might not be the best thing for you to read.
> 
> All that aside, happy reading!!

Henry’s a little more than excited at the moment; he feels a more appropriate word to describe his emotions would be _overjoyed_ , or perhaps _enlivened_. He never thought that he would make it this far, ushering his little family down a sidewalk on a not-so-shockingly cloudy London afternoon. He feels a gentle tug on his hand, and looks down.  
  


“Hi, baby.” He greets Austin sweetly. His son, three years old and a very sensitive little thing, is starting to look a little bit tired. This is one of his first real outings— he’s not used to the way that they’re expected to dress and act in London, always preferring the more casual flow of a day in Brooklyn. He’s been fussy, but nothing that they can’t handle.

“Up!” Austin says, well, demands, stretching his arms up towards Henry, wanting to be held.  
  


“You want me to carry you?” He asks, trying to get him to communicate what he wants in a clear, understandable fashion. 

“Yes, please.” He replies, and Henry smiles, picking him up and setting him down on his shoulders, holding onto his little legs.

“Is that okay?” He questions, feeling little fists grip into his hair.

“Uh-huh.”

Alex has paused in the middle of the sidewalk, and is smiling at him, that smile that only seems to dazzle him more as the two of them grow older. Normally his husband would grumble and scoff at the idea of playing such a generic character; the whole family dressed in navy, grey and burgundy, Dahlia in a dress and Austin in a sweater with shorts and long socks, nearby paparazzi snapping pictures of the five of them wherever they go. Today’s been different, though. Today’s been easy, despite the bumps in the road, and they’re taking the children to one of their favorite spots in London.

“How much longer until we’re there?” Sophie asks, pushing her dark sunglasses up the bridge of her nose, brushing wisps of sandy blonde hair out of her face.   
  


“It’s just around the corner,” Alex replies, holding a resting Dahlia on his hip, her arms thrown around his neck and face buried in his shoulder. The poor thing had tired herself out, throwing an absolute tantrum at the mere suggestion of wearing a dress; she's never been one for dresses, going as far as to wear the boy’s uniform at her elementary school. “Should be coming up on it any minute now.”

His words hold true as they round the next corner, happening upon a towering building with magnificent architecture. There aren’t very many people around, just someone at the door to let them all inside— Henry had called several months in advance to let the museum know they were visiting, not wanting to kick people out on a busy day.   
  


“Here we are,” He breathes, making his way up the steps, Alex and Sophie by his side. “The Victoria and Albert Museum.”

The doors open, and they’re let in; Henry had paid at an earlier date, just to be as efficient as possible. Alexander pulls Dahlia out of his shoulder and sets her down on the ground. She seems to be done throwing a fit for the time being, ready to walk around and view all of the artwork in its splendor. He considers it to be a miracle, given how she had shrieked and sobbed for the better part of an hour earlier in the day while they made an attempt to dress her, wailing at the top of her lungs until they let her put shorts on first. Henry thinks there’s more to it than just crankiness and childhood hissy fits, that they ought to schedule some time with a child psychologist; Alex thinks that she just needs some time to grow into herself.   
  


They walk around, and Henry points out his favorites, explaining them and the ones that the children point out. A bust of Mother Mary weeping for Jesus, the Howard Grace cup, made of silver and ivory and lined with gemstones and pearls— Sophie steals glances back at it on their way to the next piece— a painting of a Newfoundland dog against a landscape of the Scottish highlands that Austin adores. Dahlia seems to look at everything with the same sort of amazement and wonder, from the actual sculptures and paintings and embroidered tapestries, to the wall detailing and the patterns on the floor. A gentle soul; enraptured by everything.   
  


Eventually, Austin decides that he would rather have Alex carry him, and they split into two smaller groups, Henry with Sophie, and Alex with Dahlia and Austin. They never stray too far from each other, covering opposite ends of the vast hallways.   
  


Henry’s in the middle of explaining a medieval altarpiece depicting a scene from the last book of the Bible, the Revelation of St John the Divine, when Sophie speaks up.

“Didn’t you say one time that you and Papa used to come here?” She asks, always the one filled to the brim with innocent curiosity.

“Yeah,” Henry replies, eyes scanning over the piece, taking in the pinks and blues, the yellows and reds. “This is actually where I took him on one of our first real dates.” He explains. “We came at night, and I showed him all my favorite pieces before we danced through the empty halls. It was the day that I knew for sure that we were forever; I knew that night that I wanted to marry him.”

“Why did you come at night?” She asks.  
  


“Well, nobody knew that we were in love yet.” He tries to tell her, not knowing how to talk to his eight year old about the complexities of same-sex relationships between political figureheads. “And we were scared to tell people, so we had to be sneaky so people wouldn’t catch us. So, we came at night. I like to think it was _very_ romantic of me.”

“Did people ever catch you?”   
  


“Yes, actually.” He admits. “They caught us, and they told the whole world.”

“Were you scared?” 

“Only at first.” He continues. “Uncle Pip, well, he was a _very_ different man back then. He didn’t understand a lot about others— he thought that I was putting myself and others in danger, by loving Papa. So, he acted a little rude towards me.” He says, definitely an understatement— he still can’t think about it without flinching. “But Papa and Auntie Bea always had my back, and we all made it out okay in the end.”

“What about Uncle Pip?” Sophie asks, looking up at Henry. “Is he better now?”

“He’s working on it as best as he knows how.” Henry replies, remembering to tread gently. “But yes, he’s getting better everyday. Your aunt, Martha, really helped him realize that people shouldn’t be punished for being different.” He answers. “Now, we’re a happy family.”

Well, they're a happy family _most_ days. Philip still has his days where his opinions are impossible to shake or sway; there are still rows and shouting matches— but they’ve learned to put their differences aside and work together over the years, because they’re family, and that’s just what you do, if you truly love your family and aren't willing to let them go. It’s a war half won, but he’s willing to take the losses if it means he can keep his brother and family in his life.

“Good,” Sophie replies. “Because I like Uncle Pip and Aunt Martha. I don’t even know what I would _do_ if they were bad guys.”

“Who’re bad guys?” Alex asks from the end of the hallway, holding a sleeping Austin and exhausted-looking Dahlia; it’s clearly time for their naps. “Y’all about ready to head back?” 

“Yeah, we’re all done here.” Henry confirms, grabbing Sophie’s hand and leading her toward the exit. “And there aren’t any bad guys— I was just telling her a story.” He explains on their way out.

“What story?” Alex immediately asks Sophie, ever so nosy.

_“Babe—“_

“When he brought you here at night for your first _real_ date, and you danced together.” Sophie regurgitates, no filter whatsoever. “He said he knew he wanted to marry you.” She continues.

Henry glares at Alex, face heating up. Alex looks back at him, brows raised and smile smug.

“When did you know that you wanted to marry Dad, Papa?” Sophie asks Alex, turning to him as they exit the museum. 

“Well, I knew I loved him for a very _long_ time, but I knew I wanted to marry him on the night of Grandma’s re-election.” He starts, launching into an over-dramatic, semi-inaccurate account of the night in question that leaves Sophie in suspense and Henry in stitches.

Once again, he finds himself unable to believe that this life is actually his own.

  
“I think that we should come to England more often.” Alex suggests later that night, voice barely above a whisper, holding a sleeping Austin in his arms as they all lay in bed together.

“I find that rather funny, coming from you.” Henry retorts, Dahlia burrowing her small body into his chest; she had been given the option to sleep down the hall, with Sophie and Philip’s daughters— Elizabeth and Charlotte— she had said ‘ _no way’_ and, well, that had been the end of that conversation.  
  
  


“Believe me, I’m still a bit iffy about being this close to your brother.” Alex reassures him, letting out a huff of laughter. “The kids are really having fun here, though. Especially Sophie. I think it might be good for them to visit more often.”

“Maybe,” Henry starts, propping his head up with one arm. “But how much is too much? I mean, Dahlia’s already having such a hard time adjusting, and we’re still here for the next week. I just don’t know if this environment is healthy for her. Who’s to say it’s healthy for Austin, either? Being photographed all the time, being ogled at constantly; he’s only a toddler.”

“Dahlia’s always been a little bundle of surprises.” Alex agrees, tucking thick dark strands of hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear. “Sensory processing issues, running away when we try to dress her in things she doesn’t like— she’s very used to having her routine and sticking to it; used to doing what she needs to do.”  
  
  


“That’s why I worry so much.” Henry admits. “She’s precious, and intelligent, and so unbelievably kind, but she can’t handle any disruption in her schedule. I don’t know if more visits to England would help or hinder her.” 

“Well, we’ll give it the rest of the week, see if things get better or if they get worse.” Alex suggests. “We’ll do the same thing for Austin. If they have a good time, we can come for a couple of weeks this summer. If not, we’ll keep it on a once a year basis.” 

“Okay,” He replies, nodding. “We can give that a shot.” He eases back down, sighing as he shakes his head, laughing beneath his breath. 

“What?” Alex questions, and Henry can hear the smile in his voice.

“We’re never, and I really do mean _never_ ,” He starts, voice full of authority. “Putting this one in a dress, _ever_ again.” He declares, gesturing to Dahlia. “That was horrendous; I don’t care what anyone says, not Philip, not the damned PTA mums who feel the need to police what I do with my kids— I don’t bloody _care_. It is not worth the terror.”

“You looked damn near ready to cry.” Alex comments.

“It got close, I’ll tell you that much.” He responds, chuckling. “Thank God she caved. I was about to call it quits and just stay back with her.”

Alex hums, playing with her hair as she sleeps away, completely unaware that she’s the current topic of conversation. 

Henry’s breath still catches when he sees him this way, readers sitting crooked on the bridge of his nose, hair freshly trimmed, stubble covering his face; he looks more mature, sure, but just as handsome as he did on Philip’s wedding night.

“So,” Alex begins, teasing. “How soon after our ‘ _real first date_ ’ did you start planning your proposal? When did you buy my ring?”

“Go to sleep, Diaz.” Henry grumbles, blushing scarlet as he clamps his own eyes shut.   
  


He hears warm, quiet laughter, and feels cracked lips press to the space between his eyebrows.

“Love you, Wales.”

“Love you, too.”

They both huddle a little closer, and turn in for the night, knowing that, as usual, they’ll wake up sore and drained from co-sleeping with their children.

It’ll be worth it, though.

It always is.

**Author's Note:**

> @sharkandegg’s tumblr: @handsomeroyalheretic
> 
> My tumblr: @bi-disaster-fsotus


End file.
